They reject their own kind of folk.
The outcasts and oblivious few.
All alone without a phone.
A new war begins to reform.
From the ashes of an old foe.
They hunt for the lonely people.
Abusing with devious plans.
To kill inside the violent camps.
That hold those undeserving to live.
They practice torture in many disguises.
Gassing infants, mothers and fathers.
Their violent plans never subside.
The war machine carries on and on.
Taking victims of misery and depression.
Secretly taking them off to a forest.
They shoot loners until they fall down.
Deep into the murky pits of endless death.
Where once the world has forgotten.
They restart the cruel death machine.
And war ravages the unloved children.
Their fathers soon drafted into violence.
To kill and murder for profits of the rich.
Sir Markus Furiae.
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